


Opening Night

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: Tom Hiddleston Drabbles [3]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17059109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: mywildestdreamings asked: Okay so I had to give this some though cause I legit squeed when I saw your post. If you were up for it, either a continuation of the Tom Hiddleston drabble you wrote for me (like after a performance or something)





	Opening Night

## Opening Night

**_Part Two after Coffee and Shakespeare_ **

* * *

 

Tom straightened the edge of his tie and smoothed down the lapels of his suit. Nerves were something he was well used to, but for once these nerves were not on his behalf. There were on hers. Emme. His sweet waitress turned Ophelia.

It was opening night, and he couldn’t remember ever having been this nervous for one of his own shows, red carpets, or award ceremonies as he was for Emme in her first starring role. In his arm he carried a bouquet of long stem red roses, a gift for after the show, and a small nosegay of pretty purple violets which had such happy faces when he’d gone into the florists, they’d reminded him instantly of his sweet Emme, and he’d picked them up as well.

Arriving at the theatre early, Tom left the larger bouquet with the girl at the coat check who assured him with rather starry eyes she would watch it like a hawk and snuck backstage to seek out his rising Ophelia.

They had run lines nearly every night for two weeks, sometimes spending hours together, but when the theatre director had discovered just who was assisting her in perfecting her art, the man had practically begged Tom to join them for rehearsals and voice his opinion. They had all been so kind and so receptive, it had been rather humbling.

And rather irritating at the same time for, at no point in these past weeks, had he been able to ask the lovely Emme out on a date. He was suave, debonair, charming Tom Hiddleston, but every time he’d tried, his tongue had seemed to wrap itself around his teeth and tie itself in knots. Plus, with all the pressure she was under, he didn’t want to disconcert her or add even more.

However, now that it was opening night he had a plan. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan.

He lifted his hand to knock on the door to her dressing room only it flew open, and she grabbed him by the lapel to drag him in the door. “Emme, darling? That was some greeting.”

“Oh, Tom! It’s terrible!” she wailed.

Already in full costume and makeup, he took her gently by the shoulders and stroked the hand without the flowers up and down her arm. “Now, now. It can’t be all that bad. Whatever is the matter?”

“Do you remember how Jeffery has been struggling?”

“Of course.” The man was slated to play Hamlet, but he’d had a flu the actor just couldn’t seem to shake.

“He doesn’t have the flu. He has walking pneumonia and gave it to Bobby!”

Tom’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, shit,” he muttered, for Bobby was the understudy and Jeffery’s significant other.   “Can one of the others step in?”

She tightened the hold she had on his lapel. “They don’t know the lines. Not like… you.”

He arched a brow and stared at her in surprise. “Emme…”

Her face fell, and she pulled away, giving him her back. “It’s a lot. No, it’s too much. I shouldn’t have even asked. I wasn’t going to, but Pete begged and I just… no. Nevermind. We’ll cancel the performance. It’s not your problem.”

Pete was the director and his pressuring Emme into asking for him didn’t surprise Tom in the least. “Emme.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tom.”

She lifted a hand and swiped at her face, and even though he couldn’t see it, Tom knew she’d wiped away a tear. Stepping into her back, Tom wrapped his arm around her waist and held out the little bouquet before her. “Break a leg, darling.”

Emme gave a sharp inhalation and tentatively took the flowers. “Are you… does that mean…?”

“The only thing better than watching you in your first performance would be participating in it.”

“Oh, Tom,” she breathed and turned to face him. She brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled, smiling at their fragrance before lifting her hand to his cheek. “I owe you so big for this.”

“I’m certain I can think of some way you can repay me,” he grinned, holding her by the waist.

Her eyes sparkled like stars and Tom darted his gaze down to her lips. When he returned his attention to her eyes, she looked a little flustered, her cheeks pink as she dropped her hand to his tie. “It is kind of a pity. You look… really nice in this suit.”

He drew her a little closer. “Emme… I have something I’d like to ask-” Tom was cut off by the violent knocking at the door.

“Emme! Did he agree?”

They both sighed at the same time. “Yes, Pete. Come in.”

The man poked his head around the door. “Mr. Hiddleston. We’ve got everything ready, and a seamstress on standby should anything need to be adjusted. Thank goodness you and Jeffery are the same general size.”

Tom smiled and lightly cupped Emme’s cheek, ignoring Pete for the moment. “I meant what I said, Emme dear. You will be spectacular, and I will be right there with you.”

“Thank you, Tom,” she whispered and pressed up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

***

The production was an absolute success, and while Tom knew part of that was his last minute addition to the playbill, Emme had done an incredible job at keeping up with him. Such an incredible job, he would happily perform with her again.

As they’d returned backstage after the final, final, final, curtain call, Tom had grabbed an usher and asked him to retrieve Tom’s roses from the coat check. There was no way he would not be mobbed if he tried to collect them himself, and waited patiently outside Emme’s dressing room for the boy who returned at a run looking flushed.

“Nearly had to fight Samantha for them. She didn’t want to give them up to anyone but you,” he said with a snicker.

Tom took them from him and chuckled. “Well, she did promise to keep them for me. Thank you, John.”

“Mr. Hiddleston.” He nodded and walked away.

Tom checked the flowers to make sure they were all still pristine and gently knocked on Emme’s door.

“Come in, Tom!”

He walked in and shut the door behind him. She sat at the mirror in her dressing gown, taking off the last of her stage makeup. “Congratulations, darling,” he said quietly, clutching the bouquet nervously.

“Oh, Tom!” she cried, eyes welling as he placed the roses in her arms and knelt to a knee before her.

“You deserve thrice as many for your performance. You were brilliant.”

She smiled brightly, pink flooding her cheeks. “I had an amazing co-star.”

“You made it easy. I think… I think we have good chemistry.”

“So do I,” she whispered, her brow furrowing when she fingered the white envelope tucked into the top of her bouquet. “What’s this?”

Tom swallowed hard. “Open it.”

Her gaze flicked to his and back to the envelope she opened with deft fingers. A black and white image of a couple embracing graced the front, and when she opened it, she murmured, “For she had eyes and chose me.” Again her brow furrowed. “Othello, Tom? I don’t…” Then, her breath caught, and she looked up at him in shock. “Oh…”

“Is that a good oh… or, have I… misinterpreted… things?” he asked softly.

She put her flowers and card on the table and cupped his face. “Hamlet, act two, scene two,” Emme whispered.

He racked his brain and sighed happily. “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar: but never doubt I love…”

“You,” she whispered and kissed him, softly, slowly, gently.

When she lifted her head, Tom smiled. “Might I take you out to dinner?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “As long as it includes coffee and Shakespeare.”

Tom chuckled as he brushed her hair back from her face. “Might it also include kissing?”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” Emme murmured as she leaned forward and kissed him again.

**-The End-**


End file.
